Hit me baby one more bite

Now I was way back home, waiting for the bus. it was late but the bus was just around the corner. a turn, and it would come to the stop where I was waiting. I had my "chota" tiffin of grapes and sapota (chickoo). But anything and everything authentic still holds my attention. but there was nothing that could hold my sight. Chats (nah...never that inclined), samosa and vada (night time so no acidity...I love my sleep) and then I saw it.it seemed to be roasted peanut stall at first. after 3rd and 4th glance I went and i saw it. it looked different. I steered my self away from it. the bus would be there at any moment. but my eyes strayed again at the stall, I went and I finally asked "kitneka? (for how much)", the vendor nonchalantly replied "5rs" "ek de dena" I said. now I wondered what all will he add. this was a typical open stall, with no frills, the kind which is used for selling vegetables..it had soaked brown chana (gram) in one cane basket, and soaked green peas in another. there were shelled non roasted peanuts in another. some poha (beaten rice) in the next and mamra (puffed rice) there was strictly one metal dabba (box) which I later understood held utterly fiery chutney. then there were his meagre tools of trade. an iron wok (kadhai) filled 1/4 with hot sand that stood on makeshift chulla (stove) that got its fuel from small thin blocks of wood, an iron jhaari (slotted spoon) and a strainer to strain the sand. the vendor first added a handful of chana and green peas in the hot sand and started tossing the whole mixture. I desperately wanted him to finish his work as the bus was almost coming. he patiently half roasted the chana and peas he then added the ground nuts. and after a few minutes added the puffed and beaten rice. he continued roasting. n my patience was slowly wearing. "teekha ki saada (spicy or plain)?" he asked. "teekha" I said, my eyes at the bus. I almost told him to keep the mixture to himself. but then he was done, loading the mix in a thonga /pudi (conical paper makeshift container). the container was hot and steam wafted from it. I took the bus on time and took the window seat. it was only after I seated and the smell of garlic and green chilles could not hold me any longer that I started devouring the stuff. the chana and peas needed a bit more roasting, as I never prefer pulses cooked medium or rare (almost not cooked) the puffed and flattened rice added just the right crunch that was required. but what added the zing, minute spreading of gustatory bombs on the poor tongue, was the "chutney" that was added. made of roughly ground green chillies, garlic and a hint of ginger...it was lovely. Ambrosia definitely. I was happy that I didnt let this experience go away not saving it for tomorrow.